Yesterday was busy. I had my class and plenty of work and an errand to run at lunchtime. It wasn’t until this morning that I noticed yesterday’s post, about how we’re in no hurry for the cool, sharp weather of “all.”

Ah, the typo. Bane of our existence. There are the funny ones, like the time our magazine, Bluegrass, misspelled the name of an advertiser, Mrs. Farthing. (I’ll let you figure out which letter was missing.) That one was legendary. Even the local radio announcer gave us a hard time on that one.

The thing about typos now, though, is how easily they can be corrected. If I notice a misspelling or an inelegance in the blog, I just slip in and fix it. Online publishing, then, softens the rigidity of the written word. But removing the permanence also removes the power.